


A picture worth a thousand words

by robotunicorncastiel



Category: Football RPF, German NT RPF, Real Person Fiction, Sports RPF
Genre: Bisexuality, Charity Auctions, Established Relationship, M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones, inferred open/polyamorous relationships, the infamous WC selfie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 04:26:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2759588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robotunicorncastiel/pseuds/robotunicorncastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm auctioning stuff," Lukas' voice sounds cheerful in his ear, and Bastian wishes he could get mad at him, but the last time he actually got mad at Lukas was around 2011 and he doesn't like thinking back about those days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A picture worth a thousand words

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is all make-believe, just my own fictional creation based on the public personas of actual living people, you won't see me anywhere vouching that these things actually happened in real life, etc, etc.

The day before the envelope arrives at his apartment, he gets a message from Lukas on Whatsapp. " _hey wanna help kids in need???_ ", it says, and Bastian can hear his enthusiasm on the excess question marks. He answers with a simple " _obvs_ " and refrains from adding "why would you even ask that".

Less than ten seconds after the double check marks appear beside his message, the dressing room at the Allianz Arena is filled by a loud "My anaconda don't--". Bastian almost lets the phone fall to the floor, but manages to answer the call before more damage is done.

" _I'm auctioning stuff,_ " Lukas' voice sounds cheerful in his ear, and Bastian wishes he could get mad at him, but the last time he actually got mad at Lukas was around 2011 and he doesn't like thinking back about those days.

"Dude, I'm at work," he whispers, locking himself in a stall. His teammates, who had dropped what they were doing to stare at him at the first notes of Nicky Minaj's hit, go back to their pre-training routines with a few chuckles, eye rolls and head shakes. ("How's the weather in London today?," Thomas shouts after him, making everyone laugh, and Bastian feels like strangling all of them.)

" _Guardiola waited two months for you, he can wait two minutes. Listen._ "

"Go ahead, I'm listening."

" _I'm auctioning stuff for the Arche, and I want your help._ "

"Fine. Not the boots." Nobody at Bayern can stand another minute of Mario going on and on about his god damn boots from the final, how they still have grass from Maracanã on them and how they're going to be worth a fortune. Bastian thinks it's an intelligent move and a laudable charity idea, but he's not letting anyone touch his own shoes. There's much more to those yellow boots than one night in Rio, and no millionaire collector would ever be able to see them as Bastian sees them. No, he'd give away his year's earnings (both his salary and sponsorship contracts) before he gave away his boots. "And not the signed jersey, either. You know Fips was willing to fight me for it, and I share rooms with the guy. He'd kill me in my sleep."

" _Will you let me talk? I wasn't going to ask for your boots. Especially because I love having a visual reminder of how long I had to nag you until you gave in and ordered them._ " Bastian rolls his eyes. Lukas always finds a way to bring up that story. Usually he insists until Bastian admits Lukas knows what's best for him, but today he seems to be in a hurry. " _I sent you something for you to sign. Should be arriving in Munich today or tomorrow. Call me when you get it, ok?_ "

"You're not telling me what it is, are you?"

" _Of course not. You'll see it soon enough._ " He can hear Lukas' smirk in his voice; he wishes he could be in North London right now just to kiss it off his face. " _And it's freezing here. And wet. I miss your gloves._ "

"My gloves or my hands?"

" _Both. But mostly the gloves. Your hands turn into icicles in this weather._ " Bastian can't fight him on that. " _Gotta go. Tell Thomas to go fuck a horse. Love you._ "

Lukas hangs off before Bastian has a chance to answer. He stares at his phone, asking himself how the hell he fell in love with this idiot - or rather, how the hell could he not.

* * *

 

The next day, as promised, he is greeted by a large manila envelope handed by his building's concierge as he arrives home from training. It's heavy and thick, and he can feel a layer of bubble wrap popping inside as he presses it. The return address is Lukas' manager team's offices in London. Bastian holds onto his curiosity and waits until he's safe and sound in the privacy of his own apartment before trying to open it.

Sitting alone on the rug in the middle of his living room, he carefully cuts open one of the shorter sides of the envelope, then stifles a laugh that no one else would hear when he pulls out its content.

Of course.

He ignores his own face and focuses on the way Lukas' giant smile reaches his eyes, a sight Bastian hasn't seen as often as he'd like since they came back from Brazil. The little note at the top makes him groan, though in an endearing way - it's short and not excessively sugary and there's the tiny hint of naughtiness in his choice of words, pretty much in line with every tweet of his that refers to the two of them. A framed selfie: the whole thing is so _Lukas_ he can't believe he couldn't guess it. Bastian feels tempted to plant a kiss on the anti-glare glass.

Before he does it, however, his eyes fall on Lukas' signature and it reminds him that this is not a gift; it's a charity item.

It's not like back in 2007 or 2011, and he knows his head will clear as soon as he talks to Lukas again, but for a moment Bastian does feel unreasonably mad at him.

He picks up his phone and stares blankly at the screen, fingers avoiding the Contacts icon; he ends up opening 2048 instead, and spends the next twenty minutes sliding numbered squares left and right and stealing wary glances at the photograph laid beside him on the rug. Irritation wears off his patience, though, and once he realizes he has yet to get past 128 Bastian huffs and dials Lukas' number from memory. It rings six times before he picks it up; by the time he does, Bastian is already biting the skin around his nails in frustration.

" _\--before 2015, or else it's useless. Hi, hang on - I have to pick this call, just a minute..._ " He hears voices speaking English in the background, listens to Lukas' steps and the sound of a door being closed; then he checks his watch, remembers the one-hour difference between their timezones, and guesses he caught Lukas in the middle of a business meeting. Terrible, terrible timing.

" _Hey, bunny._ " Lukas' soothing voice, when added to the (not exactly) private nickname and Bastian's guilt at interrupting professional stuff at such a critical moment in Lukas' career, makes most of Bastian's anger cool off.

Most, but not all; the offending selfie is still staring back at him, even after he nudges it away with his bare foot. "Hey, uh... I got your package."

" _Told you it would get there soon. What do you say?_ "

"It's nice."

" _But?_ "

Bastian has no idea how the hell Lukas can pick up the unsaid "but" in his words; he could swear he was being as positively neutral as his current emotional state would allow. He sighs, scratches the back of his neck. "I just think I might have to talk to Rob first."

" _Your agent?_ "

"Yeah."

There is a concerning silence on the other end.

"They're really on top of me, these days. I say 'good morning' to a cashier, Bild writes a story about it, it's been crazy," Bastian adds, trying too hard to give it a logical twist.

" _I know you have to talk to them. I just..._ " Lukas sighs. Bastian's heart plunges down to his bowels. " _I thought we were over this by now._ "

"Over what?"

" _Over 2007. Over 2011. Over 'oh, no marriage, the media made that up, we're not even that close'._ " Lukas' voice is low and slightly menacing.

"Wh-- that's-- when did _I_ bring _that_ up? I never brought that up," Bastian argues back, Lukas' tension setting his own aflame again. "And it's funny how you always mention that story as if _I_ had said that. I seem to remember it being the other way around."

" _Fine, whatever, can we not talk about this again? Like, ever again? We have gone over this a hundred times too many._" They stay quiet for a moment, holding down their rage. Things tend to escalate badly whenever they touch on the topic of their 'dark ages', as they call it; they are both wise enough by now to know the best strategy is to step back a bit, before everything gets messed up again. " _It's been over eight years, Basti. This shouldn't be an issue anymore. We're not even-- the girls-- you know Monika knows. And you said things were good on your end. Unless that's changed._ "

"It hasn't changed," Bastian answers firmly; it's not a lie, after all. (Sure, it's not like he's sat down with Anna and told her, "so Luki and I are closer than you probably think and that's never gonna change, but I swear we always wear condoms," but he promised himself he wouldn't drag the issue for five years like he did with Sarah. He doesn't see his thing with Anna lasting that long, anyway.)

" _You like the selfies. You know I wouldn't post them if you asked me not to._ "

"I know."

" _You almost kissed me - on the lips - in front of several thousand people,_ " Lukas laughs a little, and Bastian releases a breath he hadn't noticed he'd been holding.

"And who knows how many cameras," he adds in a humorous tone, looking at the framed portrait again. He pulls it closer with his big toe, not really angry at it anymore, yet unable to get over the discomfort it causes him. "I don't mind being seen with you."

" _Then what's wrong?_ "

"I just..." Bastian lingers, staring at the signed photograph. He runs his fingers over the frame, mouth hanging open, nothing coming out of it; he can't come up with a way to say it that won't hurt and offend Lukas. But Lukas seemed to be in the middle of something important, and Bastian knows saying "we can talk about this later" is not an option - neither of them would be able to concentrate on anything else until they talked to each other again.

He takes a deep breath and steels himself. "I don't want to make money out of _us_ ," he lets out, defeated.

The silence stretches for so long Bastian feels compelled to beg for forgiveness, but eventually Lukas' voice comes back to life.

" _Oh. Uh. I..._ " There's ruffling sounds; Bastian can see him in his mind's eye - shifting in his seat, smoothing his clothes, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. " _Is that-- is that how you see it? I don't... whoa. Damn, Basti._ "

"I'm not accusing you of anything, ok? Please don't feel bad for it," he adds hastily.

" _Yeah, well, too late. Ugh, I'm an idiot,_ " Lukas grumbles on the other side. Bastian wishes he could go to him and hug him until his arms gave out. " _I never saw it from that angle. I do dumb stuff like this and keep expecting everyone to see it the way I see it. You know I would never..._ "

"How do you see it?" Bastian cuts him off, genuinely curious.

" _God. Go ahead, tell me I'm an idiot._ "

"You're an idiot. But how do you see it?"

" _I..._ " Lukas lets out a small embarrassed laugh. " _Sometimes when I'm having a bad day I look at that photo in my phone and it makes me feel better._ " He sighs deeply. " _Now I'm an idiot and a girl, I know. Go on, say it._ "

Bastian ignores him, glad for the fact that Lukas is unaware of the ridiculous grin plastered on his face. "And that's why you want to auction it."

" _You know me. You know how sometimes I have to hold myself from posting pictures of Louis. Whenever something makes me happy, I want to show it to everyone._ " Bastian's cheeks start to hurt. " _I know I can't tell people about our thing. So I just feel like blasting that damn selfie everywhere, because it's the closest I can get to saying 'Look at this asshole here, I love him, just accept it'. It's... it's my way of telling the world how much you mean to me._ "

Bastian hums in appreciation, his free hand playing absent-mindedly with the fibers of the fluffy grey rug under him. The smile has yet to leave his lips. "That was a smooth recovery. Congratulations."

" _So am I out of the dog house?_ "

"Not before you explain exactly how much Manu's signed kit means to you."

Lukas' laugh is a thunder of relief in Bastian's ear. " _He told you, eh? Ok, that one was for the money._"

"Oh, I'm so going to tell him you said that." They're both laughing by now. "Better think of what to say when he calls you all butthurt about it."

Lukas takes a deep breath; when he speaks again, it's his business voice. " _Listen, they're calling me back in there. I'll call you when I get home tonight, ok? We can come up with something else._ "

"It's ok," Bastian answers, shaking his head. "Luki?"

" _Yeah?_ "

"Love you."

Lukas chuckles on the other end. " _Later, dumbass. Keep your phone near you._ "

Bastian hangs up after him and stares at the screen for a moment, then turns his attention back to the selfie. He picks it up, taking in Lukas' large smile, the awkward framing of the subject, the way his own eyes stare into the camera as his lips brush Lukas' cheek.

Smiling to himself, he leaves the photograph on the floor and gets up to look for a pen.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally going to be my submission to the Schweinski Secret Santa, but due to overwhelming demand (aka two comments on tumblr) I decided to bring it forward. Let's just hope I find the time and inspiration to write another Schweinski fic during the next few days...
> 
> ... Who am I trying to fool. Chances are I'll just procrastinate on Important Stuff to write Schweinski instead.
> 
> This was also a little exercise in writing a ship-focused fic where one of the parties doesn't appear in person throughout the story. (In fact, my brain's currently playing with another plot bunny where one of the parties isn't physically present at all, only mentioned. Let's see if it comes to life.)
> 
> 2007 was the year of that interview. You know which one. The one that almost sunk this ship.  
> 2011 was the year Lukas got married.  
> Shipping Schweinski wasn't all fun and games back in the day, kids.


End file.
